


Fly Away With Me

by SunlitGarden



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Magic, Childhood Sweethearts, F/M, Familiars, First Love, First Meetings, Fluff, Magic, Witches
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-30
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24462454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SunlitGarden/pseuds/SunlitGarden
Summary: Part of Jughead wants to bolt, to get back on the road and find whatever town will take him despite of (or honoring) his Serpent coven status. Witches are supposed to use this time to form their identity independent of their families, to hone their craft free of any typical influences, but he’s always followed his instincts, even if that did lead to him burning down part of his school one time.He likes Betty. Plus, she seems like the kind of girl who would pack road snacks.Trying to reconcile his loner status, he shrugs. “Who am I to resist the opportunity to live out a Journey song lyric while starting out on their year-long abroad?”.Takes place in a similar universe to the film Kiki's Delivery Service
Relationships: Betty Cooper & Jughead Jones, Betty Cooper/Jughead Jones
Comments: 36
Kudos: 93
Collections: 7th Bughead Fanfiction Awards - Nominees





	Fly Away With Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redcirce](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redcirce/gifts).



> For sublimateradiate's Escape From Reality ask of Witches + Road Trip, this fic takes place in a universe similar to the film Kiki's Delivery Service. I considered making Jug human but then I thought, "What if the bike could FLY?" and fluff poofed off of me like a dandelion in the wind.

The wind whistles in Jughead’s ears with the same intensity of the train next to him. Driving or flying or whatever it is he’s doing is a lot louder than he expected it to be–and a lot riskier for his beanie. When he takes his hand off the handlebars of his humming motorbike to hold onto his hat, the whole vehicle wobbles, causing his familiar Edgar to shriek at him to watch the road.

He doesn’t know a great spell for keeping the damn hat attached to his head, let alone auto-steer his decidedly nontraditional mode of transportation, and shouts something to that effect when one of the train car doors shoots open and the shock nearly knocks him off balance.

A blonde girl in a loose dress whose ponytail whips with the breeze smiles brightly at him. “Hi!”

“Uh, hi?” he shouts back.

“Cool bike! Do you need some help with your hat?”

“Y-yeah, I guess.”

Edgar lands on the handlebars, black eyes shiny as he considers the stranger and the car alongside Jughead. Her broomstick almost blends into the wood and straw of the train car. A bundle of orange fur grumpily regards them from a makeshift straw mattress while its owner digs bobby pins out of her hair before offering it to them triumphantly.

“Want me to toss it or hand it to your familiar? I’m not great at levitation, yet,” she admits, turning her big princess eyes down to the grass whizzing by like she’s embarrassed.

“She’s a witch,” Edgar squawks informatively.

“Yeah, I got that!” he hisses.

“Close your mouth before you choke on a bug,” Edgar clips back, feathers rustling.

Jughead just didn’t expect anyone else to be leaving home to start their year-long education at the same time as him. He’s also never seen such a clean-cut, pretty witch before.

“I can grab it!” Jughead calls, swerving the motorbike. Edgar flaps his wings in protest at the wobbly attempt at levitation and steering.

The girl laughs, a light, beautiful sound that feels less mocking and more delighted. “Come into the train car, that way you don’t have to drive while trying to adjust your hat.”

“Uh, okay.”

The motorbike bonks against the side of the train car door before bouncing into the compartment, much to the annoyance of the cat, who growls low in its throat at the disturbance. The tires skid to a stop. Slightly mortified by the rocky landing, Jughead tries to catch his breath.

Witches fly with their spirit and his is clearly unstable.

“I had a hard time steering,” the girl admits. “I wasn’t sure if a flock was more nervous about sharing the sky with my familiar or me. Caramel says it was me.”

He laughs, shooting a glance at the grumpy cat. “Well, if it helps, Edgar seems unbothered by your presence.” The girl beams, bouncing in place. It’s kind of bizarre and sweet. Even Edgar seems surprised by her enthusiasm. Clearing his throat, Jughead gingerly brings his leg over the bike seat, stretching out his aching muscles after riding for hours. “So, you’re on your way home or heading out?”

“Heading out,” she supplies, handing him the bobby pin, her fingers warm against his for a burning instant before she digs back into her hair for another clip. “You?”

“Same.”

“Any idea where you’ll go?”

“No.” He doesn’t even know how to attach the bobby pin and flicks it between his fingers for a moment before stabbing it into his hair, hoping for the best.

“May I?” The delicacy in her tone embarrasses him.

“Let the girl do it,” Edgar chirps, heading off his protest.

“Sure.”

Heat floods his cheeks as she pins the hat to his head, her fingers looping around his locks and brushing his burning ears as she tests the stability. “I’m Betty, by the way.”

“Jughead.”

She stands in front of him, gazing at his crown brim as she wiggles his hat. Molten energy flows from his toes to the tip of his nose, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

His throat feels tight. “Are you casting a spell?”

“No, of course not.” Her eyebrows crinkle in puzzlement but she smiles at him, open and kind in a way he’s not used to. “These things are tricky, though. Mom never let us wear hats, but we did have to figure out how to wear bows. Bobby pins were the only way to keep them in place with the wind whipping in our hair. Do you want to rest here for a bit? I just woke up, but I could use the company after traveling for a day with no one to talk to but Caramel. He’s gotten cranky from all the flying. That’s why we’re on the train,” she explains, gesturing to her cat, who yowls as if annoyed at being called out.

Part of him wants to bolt, to get back on the road and find whatever town will take him despite of (or honoring) his Serpent coven status. Witches are supposed to use this time to form their identity independent of their families, to hone their craft free of any typical influences, but he’s always followed his instincts, even if that did lead to him burning down part of his school one time.

He likes Betty. Plus, she seems like the kind of girl who would pack road snacks.

Trying to reconcile his loner status, he shrugs. “Who am I to resist the opportunity to live out a Journey song lyric while starting out on their year-long abroad?”

Edgar glares at him for the sarcasm but Betty smiles, face brightening. “‘The midnight train, going anywhere?’ My neighbor’s a musician. Old neighbor, I guess,” she corrects, the lightness of her tone dimming with what he thinks is loneliness. He gets it. “So what kind of magic and job are you scouting for?” she chirps, obviously trying to distract herself.

“An incinerator? I’m mostly known for my fire spells, to be honest.”

“Maybe you could be a cook.”

“Maybe.” He shrugs, plucking at the haystacks.

“Or maybe you could be a writer. Your raven is named Edgar, right? Seems like that would fit.”

It’s like she’s shined a spotlight on the secret parts of him. A stranger! He feels so exposed. Edgar cackles, “and the boy was lonely, Nevermore!”

“Oh, can it!” he snaps at his familiar, used to the quips that he’s pretentious and broody, much like his favorite author. “But, yeah. I like stories. What are you hoping to do this year?”

“I don’t know, yet. My neighbor always tells me I should be a healer or a teacher but my parents are investigators and I’ve always enjoyed detective work. Do you know the Nancy Brew books?”

“Yeah! I read them with my sister all the time.”

“Me, too! I even brought my favorite along just in case wherever I end up doesn’t have them in the library.”

They settle amidst the hay while Betty grabs the book and some snacks to share, Caramel eyeing him up for size.

“Does he like people?” he asks, already edging away.

“Not really.”

“Neither do I.”

She laughs and Caramel appears to decide Jughead’s okay enough to sit by them, the cat purring contentedly in the sun as he settles in for another nap, this time on Betty’s lap. Three chapters in, Jughead feels brave enough to scratch his ears like Betty did and is surprised by the vibrating purr combined with the cheek rub.

“He likes you!” Betty beams. “Well, he likes _that,_ anyway.”

They translate for each other’s familiars and Jughead finds himself completely at ease watching the scenery go by with stories and Betty’s company.

Eventually, she closes the book, her foot grazing his knee as they both look out on the unknown landscape. “It’s a shame we can’t go to the same town. It’d be nice to have a friend like you, Jughead.”

“Just because we’re not living in the same town doesn’t mean we can’t be friends.” Frowning, he plays with the straw, trying to work out how they’d stay in contact if one of them settles in before the other. How would he even know where to send a letter? They exchange at-home addresses for when the year is up and she hugs him so long he feels like he’s dying a little bit.

With a watery, brave smile, she dusts off her broom and says, “Goodbye, Jughead.”

“Bye, Betts.”

As soon as the wind of her launch knocks him back, Jughead feels his resolve kick in. “We’re following them.”

“We’re what?” Edgar hops to another bale as Jughead hurriedly drags his motorbike to the edge of the train, gaze trained on Betty’s flared dress and pink ribbon fluttering in the breeze, Caramel’s tail wrapped around the broom edge.

“I’m following my instincts.”

“But witches aren’t supposed to commiserate in the year abroad. This is about connecting with regular–”

“Since when do we care about the rules?”

Edgar twitches. “Nevermore.”

They launch into the air, fire under his feet before the breeze kicks in, sputtering and thankfully not igniting any of the kindling. When Betty catches on, she laughs. “What are you doing?”

“Looking for adventure!”

They end up settling in neighboring towns–basically the same one, but with a North and South side large enough that they have their own “territories.” Residents gossip endlessly about their resident witches and their potential love affair, even if they are young. Jughead takes on the role of her brooding best friend (and boyfriend, as the Sheriff’s son teases them) and tries to ignore the urge to bristle anytime someone looks at them, especially when they’re wrapped around each other during rides and flights.

“It’s because witches are rare around here,” she reasons, “not because we’re a strange pair.” She starts to wear her hair down more, tying her ribbon in a headband or around their familiars as a teasing bit of good fun. Edgar actually loves the attention while Caramel gets jealous and tries to bat it off of him until he gets his own designated collar that Jughead helps make the token for with their names and contact information.

Jughead, for his part, enjoys the diner he understudies at. He gets to eat and write as much as he wants. The owner is so nice and encouraging that Jughead actually gets to take on side jobs that hone his magic in other useful ways. It’s sort of weird being an “attraction” for the diner, to see his smiling, burger-filled cheeks in a photo on the wall, but Betty orders a copy of the photo and has him sign it, so he thinks it must not be so bad.

“To my beloved Betts,” he writes, referencing her favorite book while sneaking in some other implications.

Whenever the diner bell rings, he hopes it’s her, even if Pop and Edgar always refer to her as his “girlfriend” to make his ears turn as pink as the strawberry milkshake she always gets.

Although they make non-witch friends–they’re supposed to, after all–they also sneak into the sheriff’s files and hunt down missing people (and pets). They have their ups and downs–Betty has her breakdowns and so does he, but they always find their way back to one another.

By the end of their year, they’re partners. _Forever_ , he hopes. Edgar makes fun of him for becoming such a sap, but he knows his familiar will miss Betty, too. It’s heartbreaking to say goodbye to this love and when they have to split off to go back to their respective homes he only half-jokingly begs her to run (to fly) away with him instead of returning to her neighbors or his coven, but she’s too responsible for that.

Her first letter is waiting for him when he gets home. Apparently, she wrote it when they were still in town, knowing it would take a while to get to him.

“I love you and I always will,” she promises, enclosing her schedule with the breaks highlighted for potential meetups. “To the next great adventure together!”

Jellybean finds their near-daily letter exchanges to be “icky romance stuff” but when Betty sends a variety of hair ribbons, suddenly, she’s the best, and he has to keep the letters out of her grubby little hands for fear of her ripping them open in search of more gifts. Betty gives Edgar shiny presents and pebbles, whereas Jughead receives photographs he can pin above his bed as well as a divination from one of her friends that they could be “Endgame,” which he thinks is ridiculous but encouraging, nonetheless.

They’d left their homes to find themselves. Against all odds, they had found each other.

They return to Riverdale for their wedding so the whole town can celebrate. Thankfully, they’ve found some peace in a B and B where Caramel curls up on his beanie and Edgar caws his good mornings from the open windowsill.

Betty buries her face into Jughead’s chest.

“Come on,” Jughead urges, gently kissing her forehead and stroking her long, loose hair as she hums against his skin. “Don’t you want to get an early start on our adventures?”

Still sleepy, but roused, she kisses up his neck, playfully nibbling on his earlobe until he leans down to capture her lips. When she touches him, it still feels like magic.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Sarah @theheavycrown for cheerleading this piece through and Cat @bettycooper for helping wade through my indecision on graphic choices! I hope this brought you some sunshine today. What do you think of the familiars? How about their apprenticeships? Their... *eyebrow waggle* magic? If you'd care to share any thoughts or emojis, please leave a comment or poke my Tumblr @lovedinapastlife


End file.
